


Pack Street: Chill

by MisterEAnon



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Customer Service, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-08-15 06:36:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8046016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisterEAnon/pseuds/MisterEAnon
Summary: Written for Thematic Thursday. Theme: Species specific customs.Remmy corners Rex on his break, and asks him how he manages to stay so calm in the face of irrationally abusive customers.





	Pack Street: Chill

The predator in front of me was three times my size, waving her claws around, and screaming in my face, threatening to find out where I lived and personally kill my family slowly while I watched, saving me for last.

I casually leaned over, tugging her receipt from the machine and offering it to her. “Here's your receipt. Have an awesome day, okay?” I grinned at her lazily, watching as it made her go even more ballistic. She should probably, like, try her coffee or something. She seemed pretty grumpy before it.

She proceeded to scream obscenities in my face for another minute in a half, while I patiently smiled at her. Eventually, she shuffled off.

I wonder if anyone ever notices we don't even have Security employees?

The next two customers were thankfully much quieter and calmer. The second one gave me a sympathetic smile, a smile I returned. I figured I deserved a break, so I shuffled into the back and tapped my co-worker on the leg, pointing with a thumb toward the register. He got the message, and I shuffled outside for a moment of quiet.

I only got a few, though, since two minutes later a customer joined me outside. Oh, hey. I totally knew this guy. “Hey, Remmy,” I greeted him, waving at him lazily.

“Oh, hey Rex-” he started to reply automatically, reciprocating my greeting, before pausing. “Wait, how do you know my name?”

I blinked slowly. “How do you know mine?”

He stared at me. “You… Have a name tag.”

I glanced down at it. “Huh. I forget that's there, sometimes.”

The sheep was looking vaguely like he was regretting his life choices. I saw that face a lot working at a fast food place. “Okay. But how do you know MY name?”

I tilted my head. “You're a sheep that eats at Bug Burga as a regular, man. You're hard to forget.”

He looked… Sheepish. Heh. Heh heh. “Oh. Well, listen, I saw that polar bear. Well, I heard how she was treating you.”

I leaned back against a crate. It was stacked on top of another crate that I liked to use as a seat sometimes, including now.

I chuckled. “I think everyone heard her, man.”

He nodded. “Yeah. So… Why were you so calm?” he asked. “I mean, she was really blowing up on you, and you just kinda stood there and took it. Weren't you mad?”

I idly scratched myself. Man, what would it be like if you had to scratch yourself, and you didn't have claws? That would suck. “Nah, I wasn't mad. It was like… Whatever, you know?”

Remmy just looked confused. “No. No, I- I don't really know at all.”

I hummed. “Huh. I guess I've never really had to explain this before? I mean, it was explained to me, and now I'm… Explaining it to you.”

He just looked at me. A few seconds passed.

Oh, right. I forgot to explain it. That was cool, though, I remembered. “Oh, yeah. I was raised by sloths.”

He raised one of those beautifully bushy eyebrows. Like, dang. Super emotive, man. “Really? I thought that was, like… Just something people were saying as an insult.”

I tilted my head. “Why would it be an insult?”

He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck with a hoof. Heh, there it was again. Totally on a roll. “Sloths are… Slow?” He seemed a little reluctant to explain once I explained I actually was raised by sloths. I didn't know why. Maybe he just didn't think about how cool sloths were until just now. I forget to think about things like that all the time.

…Oh, yeah. I was having a conversation. “Yeah, man, they sure are. And that's okay.” I nodded wisely.

“It is? I thought that- You know, being slow was a bad thing.”

I shook my head. “Nah, man. It's all a matter of perspective. You just gotta understand sloth customs, man. Their culture.”

He looked intrigued. Like someone who had never tried firefly sauce having it described to them. Man, the firefly sauce was great. I wondered if we could see firefly sauce smoothies. While I pondered, the meat-eating prey went on. “What's a… Sloth custom, then?”

I scratched my head. “Oh, that's easy. We don't hurry. Like, ever.” I wondered what kind of sloth would go fast. That would be pretty out there. “We just accept life as it comes. And when life gets too fast, well.” I slowly slumped over on my crate, until I was lying down on it, staring into the night sky. “Well, I guess one of our customs is we like to just stop and think about the things in life that matter, I guess. None of the things in life worth savoring can be rushed, man.”

He nodded slowly. “Okay… But what does that have to do with not getting mad at people who shout at you when it wasn't your fault?”

What was it that customer wanted? I had already forgotten. I was pretty sure it had something to do with straws. Pretty sure. “Oh, that's another sloth thing. A lot of animals get super mad at sloths for being slow. They're all impatient, man. So sloths know how to not get bothered by people being mad at them.”

“Which is?” My woolly guest prompted.

I thought. What was it?

Oh yeah, I remembered. “Oh, yeah. Well, if you just let it pass you by, and ride it out… People'll just forgot their frustrations with time, yeah? You just gotta live your life, and people move on. Impatient people… Are impatient with their emotions, and junk. They rush 'em and forget 'em before you know it.”

Remmy looked like he was taking a moment to process that. “So…”

I tilted my head, grinning at him. “If you just chill out, these assholes will move on and you won't even have to waste a thought on 'em. Just live your life, and they'll rush on by and you'll be done with them.” I nodded. I mean, yeah. That polar chick was pretty mad.

But that was then, and this was now. Now? Well, she wasn't really a problem anymore, and I was cool with that.

I rolled over onto my feet, stretching as I got up. “I should probably get back to work. Oh, hey, Remmy.”

He glanced down at me. He was pretty short for a sheep, I guess, but he was still taller then me, if only a little. “Yeah, rex?”

“Your wool looks pretty soft. Can I hug it?”

He inched back. “I'd really rather you not.”

I just nodded and smiled. “Cool. Catch you later, sheeple.”

I shuffled back inside. Another customer was angrily shouting at the co-worker who'd replaced me at the register. He smiled at me gratefully when I padded over to take his place.

I grinned up at the irate swine aggressively waving a plastic fork around. “What seems to be the problem, sir?”

Life was good.


End file.
